I Remember Everything
by MissMoustachio
Summary: Mary and Ib return to the gallery, but there's one person they didn't count on seeing... One shot, cross between Forgotten Portrait and Together, Forever endings.


**Hey guys, this is MissMoustachio! Thanks for clicking on my story! This is my first ever fanfic so please, go easy on me. Read, review etc :)**  
**Disclaimer: I don't own Ib... unfortunately.**

Mary didn't want to go back to the gallery. She was under no obligation to return; she was no longer bound to Guertena. But Ib had insisted that they go before the exhibition shut down three days later. Mary tried her best to scare Ib off but the red eyed girl was persistent. So, with reluctance, Mary found herself being dragged by the hand around the gallery, pretending to be interested in the paintings and statues she so greatly resented. But there was one painting that Mary hated more than anything, one painting that she insisted on keeping from Ib no matter what; The Forgotten Portrait. Whilst Ib was distracted by the headless mannequins in dresses Mary made her way to the dreaded painting.

She gritted her teeth as she glared at the painting, bitterness coursing through her veins as she looked at the slumped figure of Garry. It had been almost a year since she had taken his place in the real world. For ten months she had been living the highlife as Ib's older sister, happily involving herself in school and family life. Ib's family were none the wiser to the fact that Mary wasn't their daughter, but a monstrosity that somehow managed to escape her framed prison and invade their lives. And if Mary had her way, they'd never know. As Mary began to reach for the frame the painted figure of Garry opened his eyes, staring at her from underneath his lavender bangs. Mary recoiled as though she'd been burnt and growled.

"Don't look at me like that, Garry. I had to do it; it was you or Ib. And the both of us know that you wouldn't want her to be trapped, would you?" Garry knew he was beaten. With a resigned sigh he closed his eyes, shutting out the world he had left behind. Mary frowned slightly; how was he even able to move? He'd died in the Sketchbook, hadn't he? Shaking her head, Mary cast her doubts aside. He was gone and that was that. What Mary didn't know was that Ib had seen the whole thing. And she remembered everything.

"Garry?" she whispered, alerting Mary of her presence.  
"Ib?!" she cried, shaking. "What are you doing here?"  
"What am _I _doing here? What are _you _doing here?! You're a painting!" Mary felt the first waves of panic rippling through her.  
"I-Ib, you're crazy," she laughed, trying to retain her calm. "I'm your sister, Mary."  
"No you're not, I don't have a sister! You... you tried to kill me! And... oh no, Garry!" Ib gasped, pushing the blonde girl out of her way.  
"Oh no, oh no, oh no," Mary mumbled, tears streaming down her cheeks. This wasn't supposed to have happened, this was wrong! She turned to face Ib, who was reaching up to touch the painting, bawling.  
"Oh Garry, I'm so sorry," she chanted, the tears flowing free. Mary flushed as passers-by gave them strange looks and she glared at them.  
"What are you all looking at?! Never seen a nine year old girl cry before, huh?!" she yelled before turning back to Ib. She desperately tried to wrap her arms around the sobbing girl but Ib pushed her off.

"How could you?!" she shrieked, her face contorted in a look of pain, hatred and confusion.  
"Ib, please, you have to listen to me..." Mary began but Ib was having none of it. She shoved the girl in her shoulders, the force of it sending Mary to the floor.  
"Not so tough now without your palette knife, are you?" she snapped, hugging herself before curling up beneath the painting of her lost friend.  
"Ib, I'm so sorry," Mary murmured, trying to get up.  
"Just go," her ex-sister whispered, not looking at her.  
"Please-"  
"Go, Mary!" she repeated, her voice louder now. Her heart breaking, Mary turned on her heel and left her sister to cry, apologising to the painting.

Mary walked and walked until she finally found the painting she wanted. It gave her chills to be looking at it; she never wanted to see it again. Yet, here she was, _willingly. _She took a deep breath and read the title out loud.  
"'Fabricated World'." As the lights began to flicker Mary sighed. Was she really about to give everything up, everything she'd wanted so badly? Her mind went back to Ib and she realised the answer. Making her way to the 'Abyss of the Deep' painting Mary gave a shaky smile.  
"I'm coming back." With a short laugh, she stepped into the lagoon.

xoxox

Ib felt someone shaking her awake. Bleary eyed, she looked around her. She was on the floor in the gallery... why? She remembered coming to the gallery but after that everything was blank. Groggily pushing herself up, she looked at the painting she was sat under. It was of a young girl in a green dress, her blonde hair falling around her in sleek curls and her grey eyes dull with a forlorn sadness. A yellow rose was clasped in her hands, blue and red petals scattered at her feet. Ib read the title; 'Mary'. Ib smiled; it was a pretty name.  
"Are you okay?" a voice asked her and she turned to face the speaker. It was a lanky young man with a mop of lavender hair hanging in bangs over his face and a single eye peeping out from behind the purple curtains in concern. His long frame was covered in a tatty trench coat that fanned out around him like a cape.  
"Fine," she replied, smiling slightly. The man beamed.  
"Good to hear. I was worried you'd hurt yourself." He frowned slightly. "I feel like I've met you somewhere before... what's your name?"  
"Ib," the little girl replied. The name rang some bells but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. Likewise, Ib swore she'd seen the man before... but where?  
"Ib... that's a pretty name."  
"Thanks! Who're you?" A smile spread across the man's heart shaped face once again.  
"Garry."

As the two continued to talk they didn't notice the single tear that ran down the blonde girl's face...


End file.
